


Tyranny of the Sun

by DarkxPrince



Series: Amidst the Shadows [4]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-30
Updated: 2016-07-30
Packaged: 2018-07-27 16:51:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7626448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkxPrince/pseuds/DarkxPrince
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vampire activity has increased all throughout Skyrim, and Charlya is sent to investigate rumors of an artifact deep within Dimhollow Crypt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tyranny of the Sun

Charlya moved along the cave’s wall, sticking to the shadows, her Nightingale bow drawn and ready. She could hear voices further in the cave and while she couldn’t clearly see them, she could smell them. Vampires. Well, it wasn’t like she wasn’t expecting them; she had been told there were vampires looking for something within the cave system. She had been given orders to find whatever it was, kill the vampires, and then report back. Not that she was going to really follow the orders given to her. Yes, she would find whatever it was and kill the vampires if she had to – it wouldn’t be the first time she’s fought against her own kind – but she certainly wouldn’t be reporting back. She had no interest in returning to a group of vampire hunters.

During her travels she had been hearing rumors of increased vampire attacks all throughout Skyrim. Then, when she was in Riften after completing her latest job for the Thieves Guild, an Orc approached her and told her of a group being reformed. This group was called the Dawnguard and they specialized in hunting vampires. The irony that she, a vampire, was approached by a member of this group, who clearly didn’t recognize what she was, was not lost on her. It was, perhaps, one of the many reasons why she loved the Nightingale armor, the hood and face mask hid her vampiric features nicely. Having no pressing jobs to do for the Guild, being the Guild Master had its advantages, she decided to investigate the Dawnguard. As the old saying goes, “Know thy enemy.” What she found was a lot less than what she had expected to find.

Fort Dawnguard was in massive disrepair, and there were hardly enough members to call it an “official” group. Apparently, when the Orc that she had met said it was being reformed and looking for members, what he really meant was that they were just starting and desperate for anyone willing to join. When she entered the fort, the man who was reforming the Dawnguard, a Redguard named Isran, was talking to a Vigilant of Stendarr. The Vigilant, who she learned was named Tolan, was telling Isran that vampires had attacked the Hall of the Vigilant and killed everyone there. Apparently the only reason that Tolan had survived was because of that he had been away. Charlya was grateful for the face mask that covered the lower half of her face; otherwise they would have seen the grin that adorned her face at the news.

The Vigilants of Stendarr were nothing more than overly zealous xenophobes who hunted down and killed anything that preyed on mortals. The Vigilants worshipped the Divine Stendarr, God of Mercy, yet they were anything but merciful when it came to supernatural beings. The Vigilants hunted down and killed vampires, werewolves, witches, and even Daedra worshipers. Charlya knew there were plenty of vampires that hunted and killed for the fun of it, she had fought against many of them. However, the Dunmer woman also knew there were vampires and werewolves who only wanted to be left alone, to live their lives in peace. She wouldn’t have any problems with the Vigilants if all they hunted were the supernatural beings that preyed on mortals. But no, the Vigilants didn’t care about the fact that a vampire lived peacefully with other mortals … they still killed them. They treated mortals who worshipped the Daedra the same way. All the Vigilants cared about was killing those they deemed “impure,” it didn’t matter how one lived their life. As the Vigilants themselves were fond of saying, “Live in the light, or we’ll drag you back into it.”

Charlya was lucky enough to only run into a group of Vigilants once. She had just visited the Shrine of Azura. She often went there to pray and meditate, and was heading down the mountain planning to return to Windstad Manor to spend time with her family. A small group of Vigilants had been camped out at the base of the mountain. Because of her Nightingale armor, they couldn’t tell that she was a vampire. One of the Vigilants must have sensed Azura’s Star from within Charlya’s knapsack as she passed by them, and demanded that she hand over the Daedric artifact. Naturally she had refused to hand it over to them and tried to reason with them. Of course they didn’t care that Azura was widely considered to be one of the only “good” Daedra, and her artifact was only useful to those with magical talent. Apparently the Vigilants not only lacked mercy – which was ironic in and of itself – but also patience as they decided to take the artifact by force and Charlya was forced to defend herself.

So Charlya could safely say that, even though she only had a very brief encounter with Isran, the Dunmer vampire had a feeling that the Dawnguard would be no better than the Vigilants. When she had asked where all of these vampires were coming from, Isran replied that he wished he knew but didn’t care and only wished to see all bloodsuckers dead. This had brought them to the next topic of why the Hall of the Vigilant had been attacked in the first place. Apparently the Vigilants were investigating rumors about a “vampire artifact” within Dimhollow Crypt, and the vampires must have been looking for this “artifact” as well.  Isan proceeded to order – ignoring the fact that she hadn’t joined the Dawnguard and didn’t have to do anything that he wanted – her to investigate the crypt and kill any vampires still there. The only reason she had made her way to Dimhollow Crypt was to keep this “artifact” away from both vampire and Dawnguard’s hands. If it was a powerful artifact she didn’t want any vampire to use it for personal gain and she certainly didn’t want the Dawnguard to use it against vampirekind.

So here she was, slinking through a cave and silently killing the vampires she came across. Charlya sighed as she passed through a gate, the cave tunnel turning into an ancient Nordic ruin somewhere along the line. Not only did she have to worry about vampires, but Draugr trying to kill her as well … why was nothing ever simple? Luckily there were plenty of shadows for her to hide in, and she took her time to fire her ebony arrows. It must have been hours since she had entered the ruins when she came across a door that appeared much older than the Nordic ruins around it. The room beyond was definitely much older, just how old Charlya was unsure. It must have been ancient though, considering the Nordic ruins had been built around it. Charlya stepped out onto what appeared to be a balcony; the rest of the vast cavern coming into view. Below her, Charlya could see two vampires walk across a narrow bridge and she readied her bow. Notching an ebony arrow, the Dunmer woman drew back the bow, taking a deep breath as she aimed at one of the vampire’s heads, and released the string. The vampire crumpled to the ground as the arrow struck, turning into a pile of ash even as the other vampire spun around. Charlya quickly notched and fired another arrow, the vampire turning into ash as the arrow struck.

Returning her Nightingale bow to her back, Charlya jumped down from the balcony and crossed the bridge to the structure that stood in the center of the cavern. Charlya walked up to a small stone pillar, glancing at the braziers that surrounded it as she took a closer look. A button sat atop it and she had been in enough Nordic ruins to expect a trap. Still though, if this was what the vampires had been searching for then there was only one thing to do. Placing her hand on the button, Charlya repressed a scream as a metal spike shot through her hand, her blood pouring out of the wound and down the pillar. She took several steps back, healing the hole in her hand as purple flames rose out of grooves in the floor, lighting up some of the braziers as it did. Of course it was a puzzle, because it wouldn’t be an ancient ruin without at least one puzzle. It was a simple matter to move the other braziers until they too were lit with purple fire, and the floor sank to reveal a monolith. Part of the monolith slid down and a Nord woman dropped out of it.

The woman was on her hands and knees, gasping and coughing even as one of her hands reached for her throat. The mysterious woman looked up, Charlya sucked in a breath as she stared into glowing orange eyes … eyes almost identical to Charlya’s own. Charlya reached into her knapsack, removing one of her blood potions and knelt in front of the coughing woman. “Here, drink this, it should help,” the Dunmer said as she pressed the potion into the other woman’s hand. The Nord woman sat against the stone monolith as she drank, “Are you feeling better?” Charlya asked once the other woman finished drinking.

The Nord cleared her throat, shaking her head slightly before speaking, “I … yes, thank you.” She stared at Charlya for several seconds before saying, “You’re … not who I was expecting.”

Charlya chuckled in response, “And who were you expecting?”

The other woman was silent for several seconds, clearly trying to gather her thoughts, “I was expecting someone from my family, at least. You’re not … one of my father’s little acolytes, are you?”

The Dunmer woman raised an eyebrow, “Who’s your father?”

Charlya swore she could see confusion within the other vampire’s eyes, as if she was unsure about anything. Which wouldn’t surprise Charlya; whoever this vampire was she had been locked inside a stone coffin for who knows how long. “He’s a powerful man … or was … or still is. I’m surprised another vampire hasn’t heard about him.”

Charlya lowered her hood and face mask, no sense in denying what she was when she had so easily recognized what the other woman was as well. “So why were you locked away in there? And I’m Charlya, by the way.”

“Serana, and that’s … complicated.” She drew in a deep breath, placing a palm on her head. “Look, it’s nothing personal, I just … don’t know if I can trust you.”

Charlya nodded slightly. If she had just awoken after who knows how long, she wouldn’t be too trusting either. “So, how long were you locked away?”

Serana sighed, “I … I don’t know. Who’s the High King?”

“That’s debatable,” Charlya chuckled.

“A war? Well, at least it’s not been boring while I’ve been away,” Serana remarked, “So, who are the contenders?”

The Dunmer woman ran a hand through her hair as she answered. “Ulfric Stormcloak leads a rebellion against the Empire who supports Elisif the Fair.”

Serana cocked her head to the side, clearly confused, “There’s … an empire?” The Dunmer woman merely nodded her head and Serana buried her face in her hands. “So much time must have passed.” Charlya placed a hand on Serana’s shoulder, offering silent support to the distraught vampire. “Please, I know you have questions and no reason to trust me but … could you help me home. There should still be a castle off the coast by Solitude,” Serana pleaded.

Charlya returned to her feet, holding out her hand to Serana. “Well then, there’s a long journey ahead of us.” Serana took her hand and the Dunmer woman drew the elder vampire to her feet, “First though, we should get out of this tomb.”

“I hope you know how,” Serana spoke as the Dunmer raised her face mask and hood, “because everything’s changed since I’ve been locked away.”

Charlya turned in a slow circle, looking around the cavern as she did so. Doubling back through the cave was out of the question, she had no desire to spend another few hours in the cave. Besides, if this ruin was anything like the other Nordic crypts that she’d been through, there was a faster way to the surface. The trick was just to know what to look for and … ah, there it was. There was another bridge opposite the one that she had crossed earlier, leading further into the ruins and – hopefully – a faster way to the surface. Motioning Serana to follow her, the two vampires crossed the bridge as the Dunmer drew her Nightingale bow. No sooner had they crossed the bridge, then two statues burst to life, Serana yelling out, “Gargoyles!”

In one fluid motion, Charlya notched and fired an ebony arrow, yet it shattered against the Gargoyle’s skin. Cursing to herself Charlya drew her Nightingale blade, lightning engulfing her other hand as she called upon her magic. Ducking under the gargoyle’s claw as it swiped at her neck, the Dunmer vampire slashed her blade across the monster’s chest. Sparks flew off as if she had hit stone. _“_ _Great,_ _”_ Charlya thought to herself as she ducked another attack, _“_ _It has stone skin._ _”_ Charlya gritted her teeth as she backpedaled, blasting lightning strikes to try and keep the gargoyles away. Behind her, Serana let loose her own magical assault, lightning and ice spikes thundering into the gargoyles. Yet the gargoyles were undeterred, charging through the magical barrage as if it were nothing. Taking a deep breath, Charlya readied her Thu’um, if nothing else it would slow the gargoyles down and give them time, “ _Fo_ _…_ _Krah Diin_!”

The ice imbued Shout slammed into the gargoyles, covering them in a thin layer of frost and slowing them down. Still the gargoyles came, barely slowed down and Charlya tried to think of something fast. There was only one thing that she could do, giving no thought to any kind of repercussions. Drawing in another deep breath, the Dunmer vampire called on all of her power as Dovahkiin, pouring as much power as she could into this next Shout, “ _Fus_ _…_ _Ro Dah_!” The wave of pure concussive force tore from her throat like a clap of thunder, blasting into the gargoyles and shattering them to pieces. Charlya dropped to her knees, coughing and hacking even as she tried to gulp down mouthfuls of air to steady her breathing.

By Azura, that had been a bad idea … not that there had been much else that she could have done. The Greybeards, those who trained her in the use of the Thu’um, had warned her about using the Dragon Shouts too closely together. While she could Shout as often as she wanted, even she wasn’t immune to the drawbacks of using them too quickly. Of course, in the past she never had to use the Dragon Shouts so quickly. Normally any bandits that she faced would fall to her bow and blade long before she was forced to use the Thu’um. While most dragons she faced circled above out of range giving her time to rest her voice. This had been the first time she Shouted so quickly … and it certainly wasn’t something she wanted to repeat. Still coughing, Charlya fumbled for her pack when Serana spoke, “Here let me help you.”

Taking the pack, the elder vampire reached in and withdrew a blood potion, handing it to the Dunmer woman. Charlya downed the potion in one gulp, allowing the blood to sooth her sore throat. Nodding her thanks, Charlya returned to her feet and the two vampires crossed the bridge. The door that they found opened back into the Nordic ruins and no sooner had they stepped through than Draugr burst out of their sarcophagi. At least the Draugr were easier to kill than the gargoyles had been, and the two vampires continued on further into the ruins. The next room they came to was a large amphitheater, a fire blazing in the center of it. The Draugr around the perimeter were easy enough to kill with her bow and arrow; yet no sooner had the last Draugr fell then a Dragon Priest rose from the large stone throne. Biting back a curse Charlya drew her sword even as the Dragon Priest floated toward her, its magical staff alive with fire.

Charlya pushed Serana out of the way as fire leapt from the Dragon Priest’s staff, the magical inferno blasting into the Dunmer. Any other person would have been incinerated and any other vampire would have turned to ash, but not her. She was _Dovahkiin_ – Dragonborn – she had the soul of a dragon and the dragon’s fire ran hot through her veins. More importantly, she was Dunmer and a daughter of the Red Mountain, fire could not harm her as easily as it could the other races. “ _Wuld_ _…_ _Nah Kest!_ ” The Dragon Shout carried her forward with all the speed of an arrow, her feet never touching the ground, burying her blade into its neck as she slammed into the Dragon Priest. A sharp twist of her blade decapitated the Priest, its body dissolving to ash at her feet. A soft whispering drew her attention to a Word Wall, compelling her to walk toward it. She closed her eyes as the knowledge of the word “ _Gaan_ ” filled her mind and one of the many dragon souls she absorbed showed her its potential.

She was startled out of her daze when Serana placed a hand on her shoulder, “You all right?” The Dunmer merely nodded, heading in the direction she could smell fresh air coming from. The two vampires emerged from the cave, the midday sun beating down upon them. By Azura, she must have been in that crypt for longer than she realized.

As they made their way down the mountain, Charlya silently wondered if they should just head straight for Serana’s home or if they should stop and resupply. Windstad Manor was on their way, and Charlya knew her family would be delighted to see her. Yet at the same time, she was worried about bringing Serana there. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust the elder vampire to control herself, Charlya was unsure of how her family would react. They were, thankfully, ignorant of Charlya’s own status as a vampire and the Dunmer was afraid it would lead to unwanted questions if they discovered what Serana was. Resupplying wasn’t the only advantage of returning to Windstad Manor, they could then take the wagon to Solitude which would be much faster than merely continuing on foot. The Dunmer vampire took a quick look through her knapsack, sighing when she found she had run out of blood potions and dangerously low on other supplies as well. Well, there was no avoiding it now; they would have to stop at Windstad Manor and stock up.

It was another day before they reached Windstad Manor, the sun blazing high in the sky and Charlya could hear her adopted daughters, Runa and Sofie, playing. The girls broke off their playing and ran up to the Dunmer, throwing their arms around her waist with cries of “Mama! You’re home!”

Charlya chuckled softly as she returned their hug, “Where’s your mother?”

“She’s inside preparing the midday meal,” Sofie answered, and then the Nord girl noticed the other figure standing slightly behind her mother, “Mama, who’s that?”

“She’s a … friend. I’m helping her with something,” Charlya responded, herding her daughters back toward the mansion. “Go let your mother know I’m here.” When the two little girls were in the house, the Dunmer turned to Serana, “Listen, they don’t know I’m a vampire and I’d like to keep it that way.” She paused briefly, trying to come up with a way to say the next bit less offensively, “I also think it may be a good idea for you to hide your own vampiric features.”

Serana merely nodded, “Don’t worry. I know what people think about vampires.” As they walked through the door the elder vampire asked, “I assume we’re not staying for long?”

Charlya lowered her hood and removed her cloak, hanging it on a hook, though she kept the face mask in place, “We can restock after a quick meal. Though if you’re not in any rush, we can rest here for the rest of the day and continue first thing tomorrow.”

“That’s fine with me,” Serana replied as the Dunmer woman placed her weapons on one of the weapon racks. “Truth be told, I’m actually dreading returning home.”

Any question Charlya may have asked was interrupted by her wife, Jenassa, walking into the entry hall. The Dunmer women embraced each other, sharing a quick kiss. “Are you staying for long, love?” Jenassa asked as they broke the kiss.

“Unfortunately, no,” Charlya replied, “I need to restock some supplies, but there’s no rush to leave.” The Dunmer vampire pulled her wife close. “We’ll rest tonight and leave first thing in the morn.”

The rest of the day passed far too quickly for Charlya’s liking. They had a simple midday meal, the children constantly begging for stories of her adventures. After their meal, the girls dragged Serana outside to play. It was somehow reassuring to watch the ancient vampire playing simple children’s games, and whether or not Serana knew it, she was a natural with children. This, of course, allowed Charlya to spend more time with her wife. The two Dunmer women cuddling together on one of the outdoor balconies and watching them play. As she watched, though, Charlya swore she saw sorrow deep within the elder vampire’s eyes. It wasn’t an obvious thing and Serana was apparently adept at hiding it, as the Dunmer vampire could barely tell it was there. She made a mental note to ask Serana about it during their travels if there was time. Dinner that night was slightly more extravagant, as it was both a welcome home and farewell feast.

“Awww, do you have to leave so soon,” Sofie whined as Charlya tucked her into bed.

The Dunmer woman chuckled as she placed a kiss on the little girl’s head, “I’ll be back before you know it, and then I’ll stay for a long time.” She walked over to Runa’s bed and placed a kiss atop her head. “I promise.”

With the girls asleep, Charlya walked back to the main hall, finding Serana reading a book, “There’s a guest room on the second floor, if you want to rest.”

Serana glanced up from the book she was reading, merely shaking her head as she answered, “I think I’ve slept for long enough. If you don’t mind, I’m just going to read until you’re ready to leave.”

The Dunmer vampire merely raised an eyebrow, “Alright, but it’s open if you change your mind.” Leaving the elder vampire to her reading, Charlya returned to the master bedroom. Changing out of her Nightingale armor and into a nightgown, Charlya joined her wife in bed. Wrapping her arms around her wife’s waist, Charlya kissed Jenassa on the neck muttering, “Good night, love.”  The two Dunmer fell asleep in each other’s arms.

As always, Charlya woke with the rising sun, quietly slipping out of bed and changing back into her Nightingale armor. Placing one last kiss on her wife’s lips, Charlya left the bedroom, lifting the face mask into place. Serana was still curled up in a chair reading when Charlya walked into the main hall, motioning her to follow. The vampires entered the entry hall. The Dunmer vampire fastened her cloak as she walked over to the weapon rack, sheathing her Nightingale blade and ebony dagger at her waist. She slung her fully stocked knapsack, as well as her Nightingale bow and a quiver full of ebony arrows, over her shoulder. Charlya pulled her hood up and walked out of the manor, Serana following close behind as the elder vampire raised her own hood. Giving quick instructions to the carriage driver, the two women climbed into the back, settling themselves for the long journey.

Hours later they were outside of Solitude. Leaving the carriage behind, the vampire women continued to the coast on foot. They were halfway there and the sun was just starting to set when they were surrounded by a small group of bandits. Charlya and Serana shared a look as the bandit leader demanded they hand over all their valuables. Charlya lowered her face mask, grinning to reveal one of her fangs and Serana grinned back, her own fangs flashing in the fading sunlight. It did not take long to deal with the bandits. After the two vampires drank their fill of blood, they continued on their way. They reached the coast without further incident, finding a small boat that Serana said would take them to her home. Through the fog the Dunmer vampire could see a massive castle looming above them.

As they had neared the coast Serana withdrew more and more into herself, the elder vampire deep in thought and a frown set firmly on her face. It was even easier to see the sadness within Serana’s eyes and Charlya had debated whether or not she should ask if the elder vampire was all right … she was just unsure if she would get a response. When they touched down on the island with the castle, Serana broke her silence, “Listen, before we go any further …”

“Are you all right?” Charlya asked the other vampire.

“I … don’t know, but thanks for asking.” Serana took a deep breath, trying to gather her thoughts, “I wanted to thank you for helping me so far. Depending on what happens in there, I may go my own way for a bit, I … I need some time to think about … everything.”

Charlya placed her hand on the elder vampire’s shoulder, “I understand. If you ever just need to talk, you know where to find me.”

Serana smiled slightly, “Thanks, I’ve … never really had anyone who cared so much about me.” Before Charlya could ask, Serana walked past heading toward the castle.

When they entered the castle, they were greeted by an Altmer vampire, “Who are … wait, Serana? Is that you?” He hurried into the main hall, “My Lord! Serana has returned!”

As the two vampire women walked into the main hall, they were greeted by a Nord male. “Ah, my wayward daughter has returned. I trust you have the Elder Scroll.”

“Is that the first thing you have to say to me, _father_ ,” Serana spat out.

Serana’s father sighed. “Must I say it out loud? Yes, I’m delighted to see you, my daughter.” The male vampire turned his attention to Charlya, “And who is this you bring into our hall?”

“She’s the one who freed me,” Serana answered, “My savior.”

“I am Harkon, lord of this court, and for my daughter’s return you have my gratitude,” he paused briefly, studying the Dunmer woman, “I trust you know what we are.”

Charlya lowered her hood and face mask as she answered, “Yes, I know what you are. You’re like me.”

Harkon chuckled as he replied, “No, not like you. We are older and more powerful vampires. Your blood is weak whereas ours is strong.” Harkon paused again as if considering something. “For the rescue of that which I hold most dear, I shall reward you. And there is no greater reward than the gift of our blood. It will change that _weak_ disease you have contracted into something much more powerful.” As if sensing Charlya’s indecision he added, “Allow me to demonstrate.” He was surrounded by a black mist and once it cleared there stood something entirely inhuman and monstrous. “Behold the power of the blood which I offer and make your choice.”

Charlya’s first instinct was to decline his offer, but something stopped her. She could sense the power which radiated off the transformed Harkon and she could not deny that it was tempting to give in. Yet at the same time, she didn’t care about the power that she would gain. She was already powerful and stronger than everything save a few dragons. No, what tempted her into accepting his offer was the idea of being able to use this added power to protect her family. She couldn’t bear the thought of losing her family on the off chance she wasn’t powerful enough to save them. “I accept your offer,” she murmured, her voice barely a whisper yet it echoed around the hall.

Without a word Harkon stepped forward, sinking his fangs into her neck and injecting a small amount of his blood. The foreign vampire blood burned through her veins, multiplying and morphing her already vampiric blood into something else. Her eyes rolled backwards and a silent scream tore from her throat as she convulsed in agony. The last thing she thought before darkness claimed her was, _“What have I done?”_


End file.
